PIECE OF JUNK
by Alohilani
Summary: Dib stood there a minute.   A dog and a car.  He knew.   He suddenly knew what all this weird stuff going on was about. He knew. He knew he knew. But he couldn't quite bring it into the conscious part of his mind. Oneshot.


"Dad! Dad! Here! Let me off here! Come onnn!" Dib bounced up and down in his seat slightly, causing Gaz to open one feral yellow eye at him. "The fate of the world, Dad!"

Membrane chuckled, no trace of a facial expression making its way through the double shields of collar and goggles. "It sure is nice to see you so excited about seeing your little foreign friend again, son. You're acting like you haven't seen him in THREE weeks!"

Dib rolled his eyes, not bothering to even attempt his dad about the relationship in question. Time was short, here. His imagination was spinning in desperate circles at the thought of Zim being left alone to his own horrific devices for a week. He didn't even want to picture the terrors that could be waiting for him. "Yeah, real excited. Just let me out, come on!"

"Certainly! Enjoy your playdate, son." Membrane pulled over to the curb. Dib ripped the door open and popped out onto the sidewalk before the car had stopped moving. He ran off.

After a fair amount of determined running he realized he was going the wrong way and executed a swift heroic U-turn. He passed the family car again on the way back. Gaz had moved over into the window seat. Her expression was unreadable.

"That's _my _seat," Dib muttered, but there was no time to deal with that particular matter. It wasn't that important anyway.

Dib rounded the corner to find himself in the cul-de-sac. _The _cul-de-sac, better known as _the war zone. _And there was that stupid-looking green house, the ENEMY BASE, the enemy base with its yard full of… cardboard boxes. Cardboard boxes! Why cardboard boxes?

Dib went closer. In earlier times, he might have thought the cardboard boxes were a clever disguise for a planet-ending weapon. Now he knew better; Zim wasn't that subtle. Still, there _could_ be something unpleasant in the boxes. Parts for a doomsday device, something ordered over the Internet, something dead… he wouldn't know until he looked, so he looked into one that was sitting open.

It was full of rubber pigs. Dib shuddered for a reason he couldn't explain.

There was another open box, full of chewed-up dog toys. The other two boxes were closed.

The front door opened and Zim walked out, carrying another open box. He was staring straight ahead and his walk was casual, not a march. He set the box down and turned to face Dib, tensing his shoulders.

"What do you want, Dib?" Normal speaking volume. Normal speaking volume for a normal-speaking person, that is, not normal speaking volume for Zim.

Dib raised an eyebrow. Zim had dark shadows under his eyes, and he had frown-lines all over his face. He looked pale. "Doing some spring cleaning?"

Zim's jaw got tight. "Yes." The word was soft and clear, and something about the tone made Dib rifle through his pockets for possible means of self-defense should defense become necessary. "Why, Dib?"

"Well, you have to admit, this looks a little suspicious."

Zim's voice rose to a more standard insane-loudness. "What looks suspicious? I'm getting rid of _junk!" _He went into the house, slamming the front door behind him.

Dib looked into the open box. Old blanket, scribbled-in coloring books, a few weird, out-of-focus photos of pigs… huh.

Zim didn't come out of the house. Dib ripped open another of the boxes. More dog stuff. Leash. Food and water bowls. Worn-looking collar with a tag on it in Irken letters. Wait a minute, wasn't all of this GIR's stuff?

Well, there wasn't anything so weird about this, then, just Zim throwing out some of GIR's useless worn-out crap. Why was Zim acting like that, though? He was obviously upset about something. Ah, he probably thought his 'superior alien self' was too good to be taking the trash out. That didn't explain the haggard look to his face, though…

Dib heard a small mechanical noise off to his left. He looked over his shoulder and saw one of the lawn gnomes had both rocket arms targeted on him.

Dib ran.

* * *

Nothing very out of the ordinary happened that evening or the next morning. Dib stopped by Zim's house a few more times, but Zim wouldn't come out, and the house was on full lockdown- there was no getting in. Apart from more boxes of crap appearing in the yard, there were no signs of an evil plan.

Dib found himself back in skool on Monday as usual, listening to Miss Bitters drone as usual. The first really unusual thing happened when Zim walked into the classroom and Dib found he was one of many staring at the alien. In fact, the whole room was staring at Zim, and someone was snickering in the back row.

"Returned to the site of your humiliation?" Miss Bitters sneered. Yes, she too was looking at Zim, who just stood there, gazing dully at the rest of the class like he didn't really see them, hands stuffed in his pockets (that uniform had pockets? Go figure), looking pale and tired. Was he up to something? Something exhausting, ergo, something _big?_

Zim shrugged. There was another giggle from somewhere in the back of the class. Dang it. Dib had missed something when he was out of skool, hadn't he? Stupid family he'd never heard of! Stupid wedding! Why did Dad even care about his sister getting married, huh?

"Have a seat. And if you cause another sickening scene, I'll punish you _myself," _Miss Bitters said. Dib leaned forward, peering at Zim intently. Sickening scene, eh? Knowing Zim, this incident had probably involved vast amounts of bodily fluids… maybe pus again… maybe it was a good thing Dib had been elsewhere.

Zim sat down and Miss Bitters turned to the board, writing BOTULISM at the top of it in big, spidery letters, her chalk making a noise that pierced to the middle of Dib's brain.

A crumpled ball of paper hit Zim in the head. Zim flicked the piece of paper off of his desk. "What, you're not gonna cry?" Torque called. Dib twisted in his seat to see a bunch of the other kids were still watching Zim. "Crybaby?"

Zim folded his hands on top of his desk. "I don't know what you could possibly be talking about."

Miss Bitters continued to write on the board. TETANUS appeared underneath BOTULISM.

Someone else flicked an eraser at Zim's head. He bared his teeth and shuddered but didn't turn around.

"Crybaby! Wah!"

'Crybaby'? Now, that was one of the few things Dib wouldn't think to call Zim. Maybe he'd gotten burned or something, and screamed a lot? No, that had happened before- a few times- and there hadn't been this kind of response. Maybe the class had been hard up for entertainment with Dib gone.

A spitball hit Zim on the cheek, sticking and sending up a plume of steam. Zim cried out in pain and revulsion, clawing at his skin.

"CRYBABY!"

Zim jumped on top of his desk. He was shaking and his eyes were huge and round… moreso than usual. "Oh, that is _it!" _he screamed. "You have no idea what you're _toying _with! _I'm going to crush you like ants!"_

Miss Bitters turned around. "Sit down and endure your ritual shaming, you failed child."

Zim turned on her. "No! This is _stupid! _I'm going home!" He hopped down to the floor and stalked out of the room.

Dib's eyebrows rose.

"Fine. Come back when you can keep your mouth shut," Miss Bitters said.

"Well, in that case he'll never be back," Dib muttered.

A sprinkle of laughter went up from the other children. Dib realized they were laughing _with _him, not at him. Now _that _was just plain weird.

* * *

"So, ah. What was that all about?"

Zita looked up from her lunch. "What do you mean? Why are you talking to me?"

Dib shrugged a shoulder, tilting his lunch tray a little so his pudding wouldn't spill off onto his shoes. "Well, I was out of skool that day. Uh, when… whatever happened that's making everyone stare at Zim happened, I mean."

"Oh yeah. It was so totally a mess." A smirk appeared on Zita's face, the kind of smirk that usually appeared when someone did something nasty to Dib. "It was on Thursday. We were just sitting in class like usual, and then Zim just ran away. I saw him, he was crying. We could hear him screaming out in the hall. Like, _screaming."_

Dib could buy the screaming. "Uh huh."

"He stayed there until Miss Bitters told him to go home. He got really mad at her. He's such a freak."

"Uh huh." Now, this story didn't sound plausible at all. Likely a ruse, part of some plan… although Zim's behavior this morning hadn't seemed faked. Still. Dib had never seen him cry. "Was anything else unusual about that day?"

Zita shook her head.

"What was Miss Bitters talking about when Zim freaked out?"

"I don't know. Uhh…" She rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. "Wait- I think that was when she was talking about… yeah. She was talking about fast food? Like, what's really in tacos you get at Krazy Taco. I didn't really listen."

"Huh." That didn't sound important, but Dib would have to follow up on it just in case. He was short on leads. "Well, thanks."

"Good thing you weren't here," Zita said. "You would have been yelling how that meant he's an alien all the rest of the day."

"He is, you know," said Dib, and he went to sit at another table.

* * *

At home, Dib grabbed his Super Soaker and a blank tape to record on (he liked things old school, nothing wrong with that) and headed out to Zim's house, chewing the day's events over in his mind. He was stumped. He couldn't see an evil plan in this at all. He would just have to hope Zim would feel talkative after a nice dousing.

He paused. He was on the street that turned off onto the street that Zim lived on, and he was looking at a house on the corner. The house had one of the outer walls bashed in, and the fence flattened. Some construction guys were working on repairing it.

"Hey," Dib called. One of the guys looked over his shoulder. "What happened here?"

"Oh, um," the guy said, scratching his head. "Big truck ran into here, yep. Big truck."

"Oh." Well, that was mundane. "When was this?"

"'Bout last Monday."

What? Dib mentally kicked himself for not noticing it yesterday. He must have run by here too fast. "Why'd the truck hit it?"

"I don't know, uh… Mike!"

"Yeah?" Mike said, not looking up.

"Why'd this truck hit in here?"

"Uhh… it was on the news, uhh… somethin' bout a dog and a car?"

"Okay yeah," the first guy said. "Somethin' bout a dog and a car."

"Huh." Dib stood there a minute.

A dog and a car.

He knew.

He suddenly knew what all this weird stuff going on was about. He _knew. _He knew he knew. But he couldn't quite bring it into the conscious part of his mind.

"You done, kid?" the construction worker asked. "Cuz, uh, I got work to do."

"Oh yeah, sure," Dib said. The worker turned away.

Dib headed slowly down the sidewalk, thoughtfully chewing on the inside of his cheek. He stopped after two feet when he heard a crunch as his foot came down on something.

He looked down to see what he'd stepped on.

And then he _really _knew.

Dib knocked on Zim's door.

There was a long pause and then the door creaked open a crack. The inside was dark. Dib could see light glinting off of one opaque alien eye.

"What do you want?" Zim snarled.

Dib held up the thing he'd stepped on in the street, holding it carefully and not touching the edges. It was a single shard of broken, teal-colored glass.

"What is _that?"_

"I found it in the street," Dib said.

He could have cut the silence that followed with a knife.

Zim stuck one trembling hand through the crack in the door, holding it out palm up. Dib placed the shard of glass into it. Zim clenched his fist around the shard of glass- it sliced into his skin and funky-colored alien blood started to drip out. Dib flinched. Zim withdrew into his house. The door shut.

Dib just stood there for a minute, listening to the wind rustling in the trees in the neighbor's yard. He turned and looked at the cardboard boxes still sitting there, boxes full of GIR's things. There were at least ten boxes now, and at least one of them was giving off a repellant odor.

There was a muffled sound coming from inside the house. Dib pressed his ear against the door. Zim was whimpering.

Dib stood there a moment longer, and then he said: "You couldn't fix him?"

Zim gulped air a couple times. "Wh- what was that?" His tone was high and strained, obviously trying to sound casual.

"You couldn't fix him, huh?"

"Dib?"

"Yeah?"

"Go away."

"Um, sure." Dib scuffed one toe on the ground. "You'll do something bad to me if I don't, I guess."

"Oh, _yes. _Very, very bad. So very bad."

"Okay." He didn't move, though. Zim must have suspected he was still there, because the whimpering was kept on hold. "Zim?"

"You're trying my patience, worm child." There was a horrible, false, brittle cheer in his voice.

"I guess I'm sorry."

"Huh?"

"I'm sorry."

The door flew open. Dib almost fell inside.

Zim was staring at him. His face was wet. Dib found himself looking away as if he'd accidentally seen someone naked. "Why are you sorry?_ Did you have a hand in this?"_

"What? No, I wasn't here. It's just, uh… well, humans always say they're sorry when someone dies. It's just something to say. I guess you weird aliens don't say that."

Zim was blinking. "Die?"

Dib remembered they were talking about a robot. "I don't know. Break. Or whatever. It's just something we say when something bad happens. I don't know."

Zim was still blinking, turning his face into the sun and frowning as if this was the first time he'd ever been outside and he didn't like it. His antennae flattened to his head. "You're not… _sorry _for me… your greatest enemy! You should be rubbing it in!"

Dib hunched his shoulders. "I know, I don't know why I said it. Just- you were crying, I don't know."

Zim shook his head rapidly. "Irkens don't cry!"

"What's that wet stuff on your face then?"

"Uh-" Zim glanced from side to side. As he currently didn't have pupils, Dib had to interpret this from his body language. "It's, um."

"Never mind, I don't really care. It's just… always…" He stopped himself. He was about to say that it was always awkward for a human to watch someone cry, but he didn't want Zim to take advantage of that. "Why are you… you know… totally not crying? I mean…" He shrugged. "I guess I… didn't think you cared. About anything. Not enough to… I don't know. He was just a junky robot. I didn't even think you liked him."

"I don't know what you mean," Zim said, furiously scrubbing at both eyes. "I'm sure you would like me to have such a pathetic emotional weakness, Dib, but I don't."

"Okay…" Dib shrugged. "Fine, we can accept your version of reality for a minute, it makes things easier for m-"

"GIR was a precision instrument crafted by the Tallest and personally presented to me." Zim glared, as if expecting Dib to refute this.

"Okay. Sure. Whatever." Dib stared at the side of the doorframe.

"Mmh." Zim backed up, starting to pull the door closed. Dib noticed he was still holding that shard of glass, clutching it to his chest. His uniform was stained with blood.

The door shut, and there was an extra click of it being locked.

Dib waited a little bit longer… he didn't know what he was waiting for. Nothing happened. If Zim had gone off to cry some more, he'd gotten himself out of earshot, maybe somewhere down in the lab.

Dib turned and started walking out of the yard. He paused next to one of the boxes, looking into it.

He took out GIR's dog collar, turning it over in his hands. He tucked it into his pocket and kept walking.

This was a good thing for Dib, of course… enemy demoralized and down a resource. He should strike as soon as possible, before Zim got his crap back together and possibly acquired a more competent replacement for GIR.

But not today. He wouldn't strike today.

He wouldn't strike until he could shake the mental image of Zim clutching that stupid little piece of glass like it was the most precious thing in the world.


End file.
